Bambudder’s Weblog

     Where to begin?  We have an immigrating ancestor of John Goeorge Biller on Bo’s father’s family–thought to be a Hessian in Rev war but stayed–the Biller’s don’t all agree re that though.  Bo was born Robert Ellsworth Biller III, name change with adoption by step father who is now divorced from Bo’s mom.  [He wwent along with the adoption idea because of his sister and did not really want to change his name but did.  It's something that really hurts deeply when he thinks of it--Stuart might have been IV had he not changed his name.]  Bob, Bo’s dad, lives in Attica, Ohio (on his grandparents farm–the original barn was built in the late 1800’s-slate roof with date-but had to be torn down) with his second wife Cindy (Cindy’s maiden name was Featheringill, spelled wrong maybe)–their sons are Chris Biller and Andy Biller (just younger than Whitney is).  Bo’s only sister is Jenise Marie Beckham Brand (also adopted and formerly Biller)–her husband is Daniel D. Brand and their children–Celia Grace and Jacob Daniel.  Bo’s mom is Joyce Lynn Dunlap Beckham–lives in Heber Springs w/ her parents Forrest Jackson Dunlap and Irene Jenise Hugueley (they have extensive genealogy as well).  Grandaddy Dunlap grew up in Monroe and Grammy grew up in Hughes.  Bo has Pinkertons in his history and a distant cousin through Grandaddy is John Grisham–noted author–still have not met him–there are still Grisham family reunions at the Monroe firehouse–next door to Grandaddy’s cousin’s home.  We have about 12 generations of data on Biller family.  Bo has been told that he is going to get all of the genealogy from Grammy and Grandaddy as he is the only one who has expressed interest in the files–which include immigrating ancestors.

On Mother’s grandparents–I don’t have a great amount in my computer.
John Lee Gardner was the son of Robert Lee Gardner and Minnie Louise Schoeck (died Minnie L. Herrinton Smith)–her father was Vincent Edwarrd Schoeck (when my Grannie last knew, Uncle Vince–Vincent Edward Schoeck, Jr. was still living in Maryland).  Marjorie Lou Oxner was the daughter of John Henry Oxner and Suxie Voila McGrew–daughter of Henry Harrison McGrew and Lou Vinnia Suit.  Mama and Papa Oxner are buried in the Marianna Cemetery and Grandpa and Grandma McGrew were buried at Oak Forrest Cemetery (community outside Marianna that no longer exists but the cemetary does.)

Before we left AR and moved to NM we recieved somethings from Steve McGrew who lives in Oklahoma–descended from Henry H. McGrew and his first wife.  Ironically, he sent me back a copy of a photograph that he recieved from Grannie; it hung in the Oxner farm for years, but now I inherited the original as well of the photo of Mama and Papa and the photo of his mother–Mary Ward Hughey.

I got choked up the other day.  We have been cleaning out Grannie’s house, and I brought back the floral arrangement cards from Mama Herrington’s funeral.  In flipping through I found a card from John and Hester Kirk–in her handwriting if I am not mistaken.

Love you,

Heather

PS–I sent you an attachment of self portrait done in 2004–you could add it as my image on the blog if you want. 

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Back Row-Howard, Johnnie,Tommie-Front Row:-Tom, Hester&Willie Mae

Grown Up-Rudolph,Hester,Tommie,Howard,Johnnie at Howard’s&Jewels

This is the personal history of Hester Henrietta Lowery born Sept. 27, 1919 in Brooksville, near Macon, Miss. in Noxubee County) who married Johnnie Rie Kirk, born April 2, 1918, also a native of Winston County.My mother was Willie Mae Haggard, a native of Winston County and married to Thomas Andrew Lowery, a native of Alabama.  My mother passed away at 42 of a cerebral hemorrhage when I was only 5 years old.  I have very few memories of my mother, but I remember being in the window holding her skirt and crying because I had lost my baby calf.  I remember her sewing while I stood by her sewing machine and she would me scraps with a needle and thread to help “make” baby clothes for my doll.  My Mother was also a hat maker (milner).  We had a maid at that time that brought her little girl to work with her.  One of my earliest memories is dancing on the sidewalk and learning the Charleston with her.  She could snap both fingers, and to this day, I can only snap with one hand.We lived on a big white house in Brooksville, Ms.  My father was a blacksmith who owned a huge blacksmith shop.  He shoed horses, made plows, sharpened and repaired tools, as well as anything else that needed sharpening.  Also, he had a gristmill and ground corn into meal.  He owned a farm, as well.  I remember riding in his Ford Model A to a friend’s house.  We got caught in the rain with the top down.  We had to get underneath a bridge to keep from getting wet.  His next car was a model T Ford which he was the first in town to get.My brother, Howard, taught me to whistle and Daddy though it was awful for a little girl to whistle.  He said little girls were no more supposed to whistle that a hen was supposed to crow.   They had bought me a pair of red boots and I was so proud of them.  We also had a dairy barn not very far from town.  So Howard would walk with me to town sometimes in my pair of red boots, whistling like a crowing hen.  I was a spoiled child because I was the only girl with blond curls and teenage brothers.Two weeks into September of 1925,before my mother passed away, my father and my three brothers Johnny, Howard, and Tommy Lee were pitching hay on the farm.  My baby brother Rudolph and I were with my mother digging sweet potatoes, when she fell over and passed out.  Everyone came running! That was her first that she had any trouble.  She had a terrible headache that wouldn’t go away.My worst memory was on a Sunday when everyone was at church, a tent revival, and even I was there.  We were called to come home.  When we got to the house, cars were parked up and down the street.  She was lying on the floor in the hallway of the house with blood coming from her nose, ears, and mouth.  She died 2 or 3 days later at home from a cerebral hemorrhage. One of the things that I remember was that she kept asking to see her babies and finally someone took Rudolph and me into see her in the bedroom.  I don’t remember much else except it was a week or so before my 6^th birthday and I wondered if I was going to be able to have a party.  I didn’t really understand that she was gone and not coming back. I just remember sitting by her grave in my father’s lap.Two months later, in November of 1925, he married Annie B. Vandevender.  He had me at 5 years old and my baby brother, Rudolph, who was only two years old and just couldn’t cope with two little ones to care for. She was my mother’s best friend even though she was much younger and my father truly loved her. She only lived one year or so after they married and died from complications of childbirth.  She had a baby girl which she named Katherine.  I remember sitting on the end of the table while Annie B. cooked, but that’s about all.I knew that I had a new baby sister, and my older brother Howard and his young wife, Jewel, took care of the three of us after Annie died and while my father worked.  Katherine’s grandmother came to the funeral and Jewel gave her the baby at the grave site and we didn’t see each other for many years.The first time Katherine and I met was at Howard’s and Jewel’s Fiftieth anniversary after all those years.  We were both grown women with children and families of our own.  My nephew, Elmer Lowrey located her in Jackson, MS, and I went to see her and she came to see me.  Not many years later, she had heart surgery, and the next time I got to see her was at Howard’s and Jewel’s anniversary. She had her surgery just 6 weeks before and I didn’t recognize – her hair was gray.  We barely got to speak to her.  She died shortly after that.  The ironic part was that my husband and I had married, and his mother and daddy lived just about a mile down the road from a friend of Katherine’s.  All those years she had been visiting just right down the road, and we never knew…When Annie died, my father moved all the furniture out on the porch and sold everything.  He auctioned it off for about $2600.00 which was a lot of money in those days. We went in his Model T and traveled to Florida to a little small town just outside Tampa, FL.  On the way, we stopped at my Grandfather Lowrey’s house in Waynesboro, MS where he had been a Baptist minister for 35 years and a carpenter.  My oldest brother Johnny met my grandfather’s stepdaughter Ora May.  They knew each other only 24 hours, and my grandfather married them.  We left there in the Model T with Johnny, Ora May, my brother Tommy Lee, and Rudolph and I.  Rudolph was just 3 and I was 6. It was 1926. I don’t remember a lot about the trip, but I do remember stopping in Mobile, AL and visiting with my Aunt Mary Jane and her husband, John Hodges.  There never had any children, but they ran a big boarding house.  We crossed Mobile Bay on a ferry because there was no bridge at the time.  I remember getting scolded because I was up on the rails.  I don’t remember where exactly we landed, but we ended up in Florida, all in one piece in that T-model Ford.My father got a job taking care of orange groves.  He took Rudolph with him to work and rode with the top down on the Model T, and Rudolph couldn’t talk very plainly.  He would get very angry and throw a fit because no one could understand him.  My father kept telling him he was going to fall out the back of the car one day if he didn’t sit down.  Sure enough, one day my father was riding along the back and Rudolph had fallen out.  He wasn’t hurt.Another time according to Tommy lee, they were making white lightening and they were going through the orange groves and ran out of gas.  My father told him to slide out on the running board, open the top of the gas tank on top of the car where the radiator usually is and pour in a gallon of the white lightening.  Much to his surprise or maybe not, it worked.We were living in a little town called Puerto Rica.  I had just started to school.  We walked to school, like most kids did then, but we usually stopped at a little store.  The glass was broken over the candy case.  I have no idea where the proprietor was, but all the kids were reaching in for a handful of candy.  I decided that I’d get one and take one to my teacher, too.  That’s where I made my big mistake.  I was the only one that got caught, because I got sick that afternoon and was lying down.  The teacher came in and told me I was being punished for taking that bar of candy.  Never again in my whole life did I ever take anything that didn’t belong to me! I tried to be the little lady of the house and tried cooking and washing.  Once when I washed, I put all the clothes in the tube together to wash.  Everything turned red.  And my cooking was worse because I didn’t know how to cook, so it was either not done or burnedIt was also while we were living there that the first Christmas rolled around and my father’s sister, my aunt Ida knew I was looking forward to Santa Claus, so whether out of meaness or concern, she decided to tell me that there was no Santa Claus and spoiled my Christmas, while I was still just a child of about seven years old.In 1929, we were still in Florida when the stock market crashed and everyone lost everything.  Daddy would go to a bar or saloon and drink and gamble and he would take Rudolph with him.  On one occasion he lost all of what he had left of the $2600.00 and so……. So back to my brother and sister-in-law’s we went. Over the years, I spent time going back and forth between my brother’s and my father’s place and my aunts’ homes in Winston County.  They were my mothers sisters, Johnnie, Lizzie, None, and Stella.  They made me clothes even made my first bra.  They would send me packages of clothing when we weren’t living in Winston County.  By that time, Howard and Jewel had two sons, James Earl and Aaron, who became two more brothers to me and a little girl named Willie.  Once after she got to be about 14 years old, she told me one day, “You know, Aunt Hester, that I’m the flower of my family and I said no that I didn’t know that.  ‘Yes, she said, “ I am a blooming idiot.’  In realty she was like her mother, she was a nice, genteel, southern lady, who liked a little glass of  wine every day and managed to run quite a real estate business.Rudolph and I also had a child’s portion of my mother’s land on Haggard Road in Winston County, when she died.  Because of my father’s situation, the family sold our portions for our upbringing.My father left Florida and settled for awhile around Laurel, MS. We lived in a rooming house, Daddy, Rudolph and me. The first night we were there, Rudolph and I slept on a pallet on the floor.  I felt something on my little finger that hurt.  I thought Rudolph had hit me, so I told him to stop that!  He said, “I didn’t do anything!”  My father called us into the living room and examined my finger.  Turns out, I had been bitten by a mouse.  Fortunately, there were no problems from it. Across the hall from us was a woman with two daughters, Willie Mae and Ruth.  The woman’s name was Edda or Eddie Girault, a  divorcee.  They had several children together.  They had Jack, Cecil, Robert Earl, and Amy Lou.  They are all gone on now.Eddy was not a very kind loving mother and her kids as well as Rudolph and I had our share of problems after we grew up.Once when we were still just kids, Daddy and Eddy were farming.  They raised vegetables for sale as well as other crops.  Willie Mae, Ruth, and I had been sick with the flu  and Eddy had fixed us a hot toddy out of corn whiskey and lemon and sugar.  WE felt pretty good, so Daddy and Eddy decided to go into town for some reason and left us to go the field and pick the tomatoes.  Well, we decided that we still didn’t feel so good, so we fixed another toddy.  We had enough toddies that by the time our folks got home, we were tipsy, happy, and throwing tomatoes everywhere.On any given day, I could be found sitting in a tree reading a book. I loved to read and  I didn’t want to learn housework, so I talked Daddy into teaching me to plow. I started plowing a mule when I was about nine and kept it up until I married.  Once when the preacher came by our house he was outraged that a little girl was plowing until he talked to my father. Anyway, the neighbors knew that’s where I could be found, up in a tree reading, especially if it was Sunday.  There were scuppernong and muscadine vines growing over in peoples pastures in the very tops of saplings and trees.  They would come and ask my father if I could come and swing over and get the grapes.  Well I would go over, pull down a sapling and fly over to the vines, pick them and back l’d go.  When Rudolph was a little older, he still had a little speech impediment.  If you ever asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he’d say, “ He’o”, his way of saying hero.  He grew out of the speech problem and did become a hero.  He served his country during WWII as a tail gunner on a B12 bomber.  He put in 35 missions over Germany and volunteered to go back for 35 more.  He received the Distinguished Flying Cross medal and served his full-time in the service of his country when he began to develop rheumatoid arthritis. The army doctor’s told him he’d end up in a wheelchair, and he told them no, he wouldn’t. He was married three times; once to a girl he met in Bossier City, while stationed there and came back from the War and married her.  We didn’t have much to do with each other and don’t know why, but they were divorced. Next he married Sylvia Hurt, a woman from Winston County.  And they had a son that Rudolph claimed wasn’t his, but from all reports, he looked just like him.Then he met a little country girl from North Carolina.  They got married and had five children while he was still serving in the military.  After his death, I gave his medal to his daughter, Sandra. He and his wife Dot moved to Phoenix, AZ with their family where he became the head auditor for Ramada Inns.  When I visited during the 70’s, we were able to stay at the Ramada Inns for free, thanks to Rudolph.  He drove even after his fingers began to bend and pull inward.  He continued to work at another company and raise a small garden even after retiring from Ramada Inn until he began bedridden from the arthritis.  At the time he enlisted in the service, my family and I were living in Bossier City, LA.  He sent his war medals home to me.  When my husband decided he wanted to go back to Arkansas to farm again, I had all his medals, our marriage certificates, and other important things in a little sack that we put behind the seat in the truck when we headed toward Phillips County, Ark.  I don’t know how it happened but the sack disappeared.It was a shame that he never talked about the war until he got older.  When he did tell his children about some of these things, they would say, “There goes Daddy lying again.”  They never realized what a hero he really had been!Back to my story and the time, I was with Howard and Jewel when I started to McCloud School, a very small, small school.  My future husband was also attending there.  He was already much bigger than everyone else, so I thought he was much older.  We all used to play kick-the-can on the playground since we didn’t have a football to play with.  In the meantime, I had gone back to my father’s until I was 13.  When I returned to Howard and Jewel’s again, my brother Howard cut Johnny’s hair and his brother Duel’s hair on Sunday mornings.Johnnie’s Uncle Collins and my cousin, Nowell Haggard, drove the school buses, which were basically pickup trucks with beds and benches on them.  I rode Nowell’s bus to school with a little boy named Willie Doggett.  I had such a crush on him that I couldn’t stand it.  I got teased about it and one day, I wrote and tried to pass a note to him.  One of my friends told the teacher that I was passing notes and she made me come to the front of the room and read the note.  It said “ Willie Doggett, I love you so much I could just squeeze you.”  Needless to say after, I read that note, I didn’t have a crush anymore because I was so mortified.  We rode in the back of the wagons almost all summer going to the Pentecostal revivals under a brush arbor.  A brush arbor is where they put up poles around to form a large square, then throw a tarp-like covering over it and cover the tarp with brush.  They built an altar in the front and had wooden seats down the center.  I had gone to church with Howard and Jewel that night and was sitting on a bench when Johnny and his brother sat behind me, whispering where I could hear about which one was going to get to walk me home.  Johnny happened to be on the end of the pew and asked me could he walk me home.  I was only 13 and looked at him and said, “Brother Howard won’t let me.”  I didn’t see him again until I was 16 and at Howard’s again.  Johnny just came by every Sunday to see me.  I couldn’t go one night, and I heard him through the window as I passed by.  He had walked a friend of mine home.  I didn’t say anything about it, so he thought I was angry.  When I went to services down at the brush arbor again, a friend of his asked him, “Aren’t you going to walk Hester home?”  Johnny said, “I guess not.”  His friend said, “If you’re not, then I am,” so he walked me home.  I just made a date with him for the next Sunday.  Johnny never called, he just came by.  On Sunday, they both showed up, so I walked with the friend since we had the date.  The minister and his wife had had dinner with us and were getting a big kick out of this, wondering which one I was going to walk with.  Johnny picked his guitar, and he always picked for the group at the church.  He walked behind my date and I, between us and Howard’s family and friends.  The minister got quite a big kick out of it!  Johnny took out his guitar and played and sang “She’s My Curly-Headed Baby” right behind me and my date.  My date and I sat together during church.  When we went outside, he asked if I wanted Johnny to walk me home, and I said, “Yes, I guess so.”  I was only 16 at that time.  When he kissed me goodnight, he had to put me on  a stump because he was 6’ 7” Tall and I was 5’ 4 ½” tall.Our courtship was spent at church, walking to and from church, and Sunday afternoons, playing the piano and guitar and singing with a group of young people who gathered at Jewel’s mother’s home.  He name was Ora Culpepper and she had a piano and a big parlor.  At the time Howard and Jewel lived on what is now the Halfacre farm, just up the hill from Johnnie’s brother , William and down the hill from his parents.  We would see each other when I was plowing.  I remember once that William told Howard that I didn’t need to be plowing a mule and Howard responded with the fact that I  had been plowing since I was nine.  Anyway, Jewel’s sister, Vesta, was my best friend at he time and everyone thought we were twins or at the least sisters.  So Mrs. Culpepper would let us have her parlor on Sunday Afternoon.  Johnnie had trained with the Blackwood Brothers Quartet in Jackson and was very good on the guitar and could sing both bass and tenor.  In later years  when our children were growing up, we would sit outside late in the evenings and harmonize.  I would switch of to Alto and he would sing Tenor, or I would sing the melody and he would harmonize in either Tenor or bass.  They seemed to enjoy it as much as we did.  We sang songs like Precious memories, Whispering Hope, the old Rugged Cross, Power in the Blood,  Shall We Gather at the River, but one of their favorites was “The Orphan Child’s Song’.  It was a sad, sad, lament traveling on an Orphan’s train and the orphan child died, but the kids loved the singing and that song.  We did get to go to the fair once on a school bus driven by Johnnie’s Uncle Collins and we went to the movies.  Johnnie’s favorite actor was Fred McMurray and his favorite actress was Marie McDonald.  My favorites were Clark Gable and Carol Lombard.   I just liked the movies and after we moved to the farm in Arkansas, I had seen a movie with Fred McMurray and Claudette Colbert called “The Egg and I”.  That movie helped me survive that year because I had a major surgery and was back in the field in six weeks, because our circumstances were rather bleak.              We had planned to be married in the church on Valentine’s day, which was on a Sunday, with dress and flowers, and everything.  However, I had not been feeling well and was running a fever.  We had gone to Louisville to get our marriage license that morning and Earline, Johnnie’s sister, and his mother talked us into getting married by the Justice of the peace on February 13, 1937.  It was raining and since I didn’t feel well, they said that something might happen to prevent the wedding.  So we got married and I went home to Ma Carrie’s and spent my wedding night in the room next to hers.  The next morning I woke up with the mumps.  I got pregnant during the first two weeks of marriage and during that 9 ½ months, I had an appendectomy, pneumonia, and a new baby girl born on Thanksgiving day.  The following years, we made many moves and had five more children.  One of them, a little girl, was born dead, but the others all grew up to be smart, successful people.  Their father and I were married 55 years when he died.  We   had many good times and maybe more hard times, but I loved him more the day he died than I did when I married him.  I also outlived all my brothers and sisters, except on half brother in Texas.His name was Robert and I never knew him because he was born after I married and moved away, but I loved all my brothers and my sisters .            As we grew older, Johnnie and I raised truck patches and the grandchildren all helped at times.  The extra money helped, but I loved to go the garden and enjoyed the contacts that I made while selling  the vegetables.  I love to cook and have spent many hours putting up, peas, butter beans, corn, and making fruit into jellies and jams.  I love to make apple butter and as I get older, it’s one of the few things that I am still able to do.  I love to enjoy hearing people say they enjoy it and hear them brag on my cornbread and biscuit.            I have moved back to Helena and I am enjoying old friends and cooking and having my own place where my family can come and see me.             Note:  Mother died on October 21, 2006, in Helena, AR and is buried in Sunset Cemetery in Phillips county, next to Daddy.  She wanted to be buried in Murphy Creek next to her family and have Daddy moved as well, but funds wouldn’t permit it.  Maybe, God willing, one day her remains will rest in the place tht she loved most, Winston County, Mississippi.

The following is informtion that I have accumulated from Lucien McNeese book “The Kirk and Related Families”, from Max Kirk, from Earline Kirk, my aunt, and other family members who are searching for their ancestors as well.  Other Sources are Rootsweb, Ancestry, Genforum.com, Lancaster County Records, North Hampton, King George, Westmoreland,  and Stafford County Will and Marriage Records.  I will say that next to my cousin, Lucien McNeese and Max Kirk and his wife Sue, have done more research than anyone else that I know of doing research on this family. descendant of  

 Our Kirk’s were originally Norman and probably were Vikings.  During the reign of William the Conquerer and his son, Henry I and grandson Henry II, many Normans were given land and titles formerly belonging to Englishmen.  Between the reign of Henry I and Henry II, some Normans were given land and titles in Scotland. 

Our Norman Kirk’s were probably among these.  The name in France or Normandy was originally spelled Quirke and in Scotland it was spelled O’Couric and another Gaelic spelling was O’Coirce. 

According to the  description of the Kirk Coat of Arms , the Kirk’s were of an eccleastical office, with military honors, probably the Crusades, and is a symbol of dominion and authority, granted for success in war.  Also It represents that the bearer was once a member of the knighthood of St. Andrew and the saltire is one of the  eight great ordanies:  the St. Andrews Cross.

Lucien McNeese, who is considered one of the foremost authorities on the family, and is a relative of our grandfather, John Henry Kirk, states that the first Christopher Kirke was born in Scotland in 1612.  However there are other records that I haven’t been able to reconcile yet.

There are some records giving his ancestory as follows:

Christopher Kirke born 02 Feb 1618 Yorkshire, England                            (my record shows 1612 as his birth year)                                               Father:  Christopher Kirk born 17 Nov 1596 Yorkshire, England                 His Father: Thomas Kyrke b 1571 Norton, Derby, England                          His Mother Susan Lister                                                                                  Thomas’ Father:  Edward Kyrke b abt 1545                             His Mother :Ellen Canne                                                                              Edward Father:  Arnold Kyrke b  (maybe abt 1500) Norton, DerbyEngland. His Mother Agnes Thurstan or Thurston                                                      His brother Thurston b  Norton, Derby, England or Greenhill, Derby, England

There is another story about Christopher’s arrival in this county.  Thomas Kyrke, the father of the Christopher born in 1596, was the cousin of a Gervais Kyrke, also born in 1596.  His father was Thurston, the son of Arnold Kyrke and brother to Edward Kirk.

 Gervais had five sons with his wife Elizabeth Gowding of Deepe, France.  She was the daughter of John Gowding.  Gervais and Elizabeth lived in Deepe, France for about forty years, where he was know as Jervays His five sons were David, Thomas, Lewis, John and James.  He had two daughters as well, one being Lady Ann Kyrke Hopkins and Lady Elizabeth Kyrke, wife of Joseph Greteulo, a Frenchman from Deepe, France.  They had  three children, David, Elizabeth, and Mary. Both  Anne and Elizabeth Kyrke were Ladies in Waiting for King Charles.  in 1642 during the Civil War in England, Lady Hopkins and her family were sent to stay with David, her brother, in Newfoundland for their protection until the war was over by King Charles. Gervais died on 17 December 1626 t his home in Basing Lane in London. He had lived long enough to see the great sucess his sons had against the French.

In 1628, Gervais Kyrke formed a company of merchants in London consisting of  Sir William Alexander, W. Berkley and others, according to  the book “A Kirk – Berkley Connection” . 

 David Kyrke proved many times that the French were no match for David and his brothersupon the high seas.  As Max Kirk said, these brothers still had a lot of the vikings in their blood.

In 1628 when war started between England and France over the land in Canada, the five sons of Gervais Kyrke set out from Gravesend, England.  David Kyrke, by now it was Kirke, being the eldest son commanded three ships:

The Abigail—300 tons —Capt. David Kirke

The William—200 Tons —Capt. Lewis Kirke

The George—200 tons—Capt Thomas Kirke.

These brothers were sailing as Privateers in the employment of this group of merchant adventurers.  They sailed with a Letter of Marche from King Charles, authorizing them to board any French or Spanish ship.  He instructed them to harass the French in Canada.

These brothers, five, sailed  into the Canadian coast and not only harassed, but captured and defeated the French there. All five brothers were awarded their Coat of Arms in 1631 for defeating the French fleet under the command of  Admiral M. De Roquemont in 1628.  They captured 18 French Supply Ships and brought Admiral De Roquemont to England as a prisoner of war.

 In 1629, the Kirke brothers left England again, this time with David leading an armada of 9 ships under his command.  His brothers, also commanded ships, but among these ships was the 200 ton Gervase.  They captured the French governor of Quebec, Champlain, and took him back to England as a prisioner of war.

The English flag was raised over Canada on 30th day of July, 1629.  David Kirke installed his brother, Lewis, as Governor of Quebec, a position that he held for three years.  After that time King Charles turned it back over to the French.  However, before that took place David Kirke ran the fur trade that had originally been run between the French and the Indians for a period of almost six years.  The Kirk’s had a monopoly on the fur trade, treaty or no treaty. 

The fort captured by David Kirke in 1629 is the same fort that exists today in Quebec City,  Quebec.  It sits on a 350 ft cliff, overlooking the St. Lawrence River.   For his part in leading the armada and capturing the French and extablishing the fur trade, David Kirke was made governor of NewFoundland. 

Thomas Kyrke at the age of 26 was a Captain of the fleet and a Vice Admiral.   We know that John at 23 and James the youngest also were also captains of their own ships in David’s Armada because these five brothers all five brothers were awarded the addition to their Coat of Arms.

It was from the ship of one of these brothers, that young Christopher Kirke arrived in the New World.  He sailed from Gravesend, England, located east of London on the Thames River the very same place the Kirke brothers started their journey to defeat the French. He sailed on the ship belonging to his father’s cousin, Thomas’s ship the George.  Christopher sailed on 21 August 1635.  The ships captain  or master was Joseph Severne.

The Ships Log showed a Christopher Kirke age 23 and Alice Watson age 30. This would have made Christopher’s birth year 1612 and not 1618.  His wife’s name was Alice.  If he married Alice Watson, could they have been married aboard ship, because so far, it seems, no one has found a marrige recorded for them in North Hampton County, VA  The information above came from John Hottens “List of Emigrants 1600-1700″  and M Tepper’s ” Passengers to America.  Christopher Kirke died before 28 Feb 1652 when the depositions of John Ellis and William Monette were recorded in open Court on 28 Feb 1652.

From the writings of Lucien McNeese, the Kirk Story is the story of the United States, especially in the Southern  states.

He states that the name Kirk means “church” and is of Scottish origin. It was probably given it’s bearer by the name of the village or estate where he lived or the proximity of his home to a church.  It is found in the old English and Irish records in other forms than the ones perviously mentioned.  Some of the were Kirch; Kurk,  and Kerk, Kirke, and Kirk as we know it today.  Families with this name usually went from Scotland to England and Ireland.  They were frequently from Nottingham, Derby, Essex, and York.  For the most part, they were yeoman of landed gentry of Great Britain.  Our ancestors married into prominent families in both Great Britain and the Colonies.  Many of their marriages and births are recorded in the parrish of Christ Church, in Westover County, VA, in Lancaster County, VA, and in Stafford County, VA.  then they began to move southward and westward. 

 This ancestor, Christopher Kirke. who traveled from Gravesend was probably born in Scotland, though his family is listed in Yorkshire and Derby, England.  The place he settled in North Hampton was mostly wilderness inhabited by Indians and a few white settlers.  The first years the settlers went through suffering and hardships.  There were several more Kirk’s living in Virginia.  Some may have been related , perhaps his brothers.

Chirstopher and Alice (Watson) Kirke had (1)  Christopher Kirk, Jr. (2) Mary Kirk (3) Rebecca.  So far I have no records  of  a marriage for Mary or Rebecca 

 Christopher Kirke, Jr.  b between 1636 and 1640 married Anne?  between 1662-1665 It is possible she was a Gibson  because Christopher bought his first land from between 1665 and 1670 fron a John Gibson in North Umberland County where Anne was born.  He died in lancaster County in 1705 leaving his wife and 5 children.  (1)  James Kirk (2) Christopher Kirk III (3) Thomas Kirk (4) Robert Kirk (5) Ann Kirk

James b abt 1665 m  Elizabeth?? died bef  12 Feb 1717 had two children    (1) Katherine Kirk (2)  james m Mary?? Will probated 20 Mar 1777 Lancaster County, VA.  Children were  (1) William Kirk (2) Sarah Kirk m William Gibson one child James Gibson (3) Judith Kirk m Lawson Hathaway – one child Elizabeth (4) Elizabeth Kirk m Thomas Hathaway-one child-James Hathaway

Christopher Kirke III m Ann??  No birth  or marriage date given  died before 10 Oct 1722 Lancaster County, VA .   

 (1)William d bef 10 July 1725, wife Margaret had children (1) Christopher Kirk IV(2) Hannee Kirk

(2) Chistopher Kirk IV (no Birthdate Died before 12 May 1736 Wife Elizabeth Children were (1) Anthony m Sarah Brent (Father probably Hugh or George Brent) 04 May 1747 Lancaster County VA Will probated 20 Jan 1764 in Lancaster County, VA .  Children were  (1) Thomas Kirk  (2 James Kirk M Judith Yerby daughter of William Yerby   Their children  were (1) Anthony Kirk (2) Mary Kirk (3) Cathatrine Kirk.  Child of Judith Kirk and Thomas Griggs (1) Sarah Griggs (As supported by Wills of Anthony Kirk and Sarah Kirk.  Sarah Kirk died befor 25 feb 1773 Christ Church Parrish VA) 

(3) Thomas Kirk (4) John Kirk (Alice Kirk) (5) Rebecca Kirk. Capt Hugh Brent was appointed Guardian of Thomas.  Because there was only one child with a guardian who was not the mother may mean he was the youngest child. Thomas  seems not to have married and died about the same time as his mother.  His Will was probated 22 Feb 1778 and left everything to his brother and his children and his mother, who died a month Later.  (Max Kirk wonders if Thomas may have died in the Revolutionary War) 

Thomas Kirk, son of Christopher Kirk, Jr., married Sarah?? died before        12 May 1727.  Will mentioned seven children, only Thomas and John are named, but the son Thomas was named guardian of his brother, James orphans, and Sarah was mentioned as their grandmother.  All in Lancaster County, VA.  Ref Will Book 12 Page 10 and Lucien MeNeese Book on Kirk Family.

Ann Kirk, daughter of Christopher Kirk, married William Nash of lancaster County, VA on 10 Feb 1717.  Her family  with William Nash is listed in Roots Web and in Family Pages in Genalogy.com.

Robert Kirk, son of Christopher Kirk, Jr., who is my ancestor, married  was born about 1670 in Lancaster County, VA and his will is dated 03 Mar 1727.  He married  Margaret??

Children were: (1) George Kirk (2) Sarah Kirk (3) Jeremiah Kirk (4) Hezekiah Kirk (5) Charity Kirk (James Kirk).  As far as I can tell George never married, but in Robert’s  will, he requested that in the case of the death of his wife, that George was to raise his daughter Charity and his youngest son James.  Hezekiah mus have still been young as well, because George was to hold their part of his estate until they reached eighteen years of age.  He stated that he can hold the opart of the estate belonging to his daughter until she reaches  eighteen years of age or until her marriage and his two sons likewise until they reach eighteen years of age. All of the children must have been born somewhere between 1700 and shortly before 1727 because the three youngest children were under eighteen years of age.

Max Kirk posted on Genforum to a Ben Kirk that he thought that James Kirk in Augusta County, VA was the son of Jeremiah, Kirk, Jr. This Jermiah Kirk, Jr of Lancaster County was born in 1760.  His father, Jeremiah married in 1740 and had a son James, who was the father of Elizabeth, Jeremiah Kirk’s granddaughter.  It is my contention that this James Kirk was the son of Robert Kirk.  If this is so, then James wife was Agnes Butler and the daughter of jeremiah, Charity was married to James Bratton.  The dates don’t fit for a child of either Jeremiah because I have the dates and children of both Jeremiah’s.  Anne Butler’s father was James Butler bedause he mentions the children of james and Agnes,  james Kirk and Anne Kirk as his grandchildren. 

 Lucien McNeese mentions no  marriages and descendants of any of Robert;s children except Jeremiah who married Anne Thomas, daughter of John Thomas b in 1760 and died in 1782.  Mr.  NcNeese in writing of the family of  Anne Thomas the wife of Jeremiah Kirk, that The Kirks, Monroes, and Jones intermarried in King George, Stafford County, VA  and in Westmoreland County and that they were all neighbors. 

Jeremiah married Anne Thomas of Culpper County, VA about 1840 in King Georg county, Va.  He didn’t serve in the Revolutionary War,  Insteadd he furnished Property, Horse, and other aid to the revolutionary Cause which was satisfactory to the Court on  04 Ap 1782 in King George County, VA.

Taken from Tyler’s Qrtly Hisorical magazine Vol V-1923-44 Page 55

In his will dated 5 July, 1792, Will Book 2 page 149 he mentions, he mentions four children, Jeremiah Kirk, Jr, Sarah Kirk Baltrap, Hezekiah Kirk , who married Bethlehem Bennet,(who was related to the Jones and Monroes, ) and  jesse Kirk  The father of grandaughter Elizabeth Kirk was a son, James Kirk and another son William Kirk married  Elisabeth Agnes Cain and moved to Fairfax County, VA.  The grandchild Mary Jones mentioned could have been a grown grandchild and daughter of one of the Kirk sons or a daughter who married a Mr. Jones.  Jesse Kirk moved on to Adair County, Missouri and was the oldest resident of Kirksville, Missouri.  He opened the first Tavern and business in Kirsville.  He was Postmaster and the Town of Kirksville, was named for him.   None of the children’s history is mentioned except for Jeremiah Kirk, Jr.  Jeremiah Kirk, jr. b abt 1760 d 18169 in Stafford County, VAmarried Anne Monroe 18 Aug 1785 in St PaulC hurch, King George and Stafford Counties Recorded on Page 225 of the Church Records.  Anne Monroe was the daughter of George Monroe and was born in 1760 in Westmoreland County, Va.  She was the second cousin to President James Monroe and oftern carried her children to the White House, when he was President.

The 1810 Census mentions eight children and one male over 45 in the household.  No mention  is made of the mother, Anne.  She may have died by this time.  The three oldest children were girls between ages of 16-26.  The youngest were three boys under 5 yrs of age.  The children of Jeremiah Kirk, Jr. and Ann Monroe were as follows:  All were born in Stafford County.  The children of Jeremiah Kirk, Jr., and Ann Monroe are as follows: (1) Mary Kirk b 1787 (2) Margaret Kirk b 1790 (3) Sarah Kirk b 1792 (4) Elizabeth Kirk b between 1794-1796 (5) George Kirk b between 1798-1800 (5) William Kirk b 25 Sept 1802 (7) John b between 1803 and 1805 and (8) Benjamin b between 1816-1807.

I  am the great great grandaughter of Jeremiah’s son,  William Kirk born in 1802 and married to Rebecca Billingsley, but that will be the story for another posting.

When I first started dating Joe, he could really aggravate me.

On the first date, one of my classmates told me not to keep him out too late, because she had a date with him the next afternoon.  Later I found out  that they all went swimming and that she lost her bathing suit top and he got to see all of her in glorious color.  Naturally he had to tell me that.  Not only that but , after I been warned , he kept me out late.

Our second date, he had come home with his friend’s body  to bury him after  he died in Japan. We double dated with another couple.  He pretended to be asleep whenever we were  in the car.  We had gone to a movie with them and then out to a drive-in to get a cold drink.  He may have truly been tired because he came by train from San Diego, CA, with his friend and had to help with the military transport and funeral, but anyway I didn’t know that and I thought he was just being tacky.

Third date, wasn’t really a date.  Because I worked with his sister and had dated him twice, He stopped at my bus stop one cold, rainy, afteroon and gave me a ride home.  We were sitting in the yard and he talked a bit about this girl he had dated from Forrest City and I don’t know what else, and then he notices my class ring.  It wasn’t like his even though we both graduated from the same high school.  So he asks to see it, and so I took it off.  He put it on his  little finger and kept it.

Another aggravation.  I was dating an older guy and his sister and I were friends, so somehow or another, the girls at the bank had a weiner roast and I took Pat with me.  When we got there, who should I see, but Joe perched on a log on the other side of the fire.  I didn’t know until somtime later, that he said when he saw me that he knew that I was ”the one”.

  I don’t know why I did it but, finally after dating the other  fellow for nine months, I got up at the bank where I worked  one day and said,”Girls, Old Kat is in the market for a new boyfriend.”    That night he called.  I don’t know where we went , but I never dated anyone else, until I decided that he just wasn’t going to get married and that I was going back to school.  I remember one Saturday night, he told me that he would see me about 8:00 Saturday night.  I dressed and waited until 10:00 and thought that I had been royally stood up and dumped.  I remember being on my bed just crying and he showed up.  I later found out that he was pretty good about just showing up when he was dating a girl, but I wasn’t used to that, so I was pretty unhappy.

Another time, we were planning to go the watch the Little League games that my brother, Johnnie was playing in.  It was the All Stars and since we had been going to the games, we weren’t going to miss this one.   Mother and Daddy and the other kids had gone on to the baseball field and I was left at home taking my bath.  The old house that we lived in was a Victorian one that had been somewhat remodeled and there were two doors on the back of the house and a big porch on the front.  It had windows that were about 8′ tall, and we never locked any of them.  Everything was always left open, because we were always coming and going. Anyway, this particular afternoon, I got out of the tub, opened the door to the bathroom and proceeded to put on my makeup, fix my hair, put on my underwear and in my full length slip (I even remember it was a beige one with about 2″ of lace on top and bottom)  I go strolling through my bedroom, through the dining room and into the living room and who should be sitting there reading the paper, but Joe Davis.  I had no notion he was there.  I was mortified and asked him what he would have done if I had just come through there with nothing on.  He just grinned and said that’s what he was waiting for.  So much aggravation, that man was and I guess I was as well.  So why did I keep going out.  I’m not sure, but I think Heavenly Father had it in His plan for us all.  I’m pretty sure there were times that he thought I was an aggravation as well.

When I first met Joe, I had been dating a man who was really a “pretty boy”.  So I didn’t at first think of Joe as being a handsome man, but he truly was.  He had dark brown hair and attractive face and beautiful smile.  He had large white teeth (why did I notice that, you may ask, I don’t know except I missed them when they were gone.) However, he had cowlicks all over his head and large ears that he would tell me looked like a taxi coming down the street wtih the doors open. He was tall and very well built.  He had beautiful legs for a man and he was always the neatest fellow.  He never seemd to get dirty or sloppy and he always wore dress shirts and slacks.  The only grungies that I ever saw him in were his sailor’s dungarees and chambray shirts from the navy.  He was personable, never seemed shy or met a stanger.  He did however like the feel of silk and nylon because he would rub my legs whenever he could and once when we were at his sister’s house, he started rubbing the leg next to him and it was his sister, Betty’s leg. Well we all got laugh out of that and it broke him from doing it to some extent.  He was just a good looking , very maculine man.  I can’t tell you when I decided that I loved him, it just happened.  First he was an aggravation , then a friend, and then more.  He, was not, however, a very romantic man.  Still isn’t, but he has his moments.  He is still my best friend and when I see that silver crew cut,  now, as it did when it was brown, my world tilts upright and I know I’m home and safe.

Anyway, we both loved movies, expecially westerns.  In those days, it only cost an adult  50 cents to go to the movie and the move changed every other day, so there was lots to do, you see. 

At other times, we gathered at the apartment of his sister, or one of our friends, or his brother,  and we would cook and then we would play chinese checkers or dominos (not often), or a game called Sorry, or canasta.  When we played canasta or chinese checkers, there were usually  six of us playing and of course, he won.  He didn’t believe in letting anyone think they could beat him. 

  One Halloween, his sister and her husband, Joe and I decided that we would do something bad.  We lived in a little town of about 10,000.  Most everyone knew everyone else and many of us  worked together.  So, this particular night, we decided to go all over town and move the park benches.  Now don’t you think that was bad.  Well, it was really pretty stupid on our part, I was 19, he was 24, his sister was 20 and her husband was 27.  What we were was really stupid grownups, but we thought we were really bad.  So much for small town pranks. 

I didn’t swim very well  either (non existent in fact), but we went to company picnics where her worked and I would try to show off what a really athletic girl I was by playing volley ball or bad minton, or soft ball.  Joe could do it all, but I didn’t even swim and usually there was swimming.  If I got in the water, he would go under and glide over to where I was and he would pull me under.  He didn’t know that I was scared witless of the water because I had nearly drowned or thought I was drowning when I was younger.

We lived in a small town, so what we could do was limited, but generally it was with family, an occasional football game, Johnnie’s Little League games, going driving on a Sunday afternoon, going to the drive-in movies as well as the movies downtown.  Daddy got a little tight one night and was feeling rich, so he took us all out for steak, which in those days was a treat for a family as large as ours and Joe went with us. 

On Easter Sunday, one year Daddy and Mother drove us all out to the Slab field in our Easter finery and we took pictures along the River Bank.  Joe was right there with us.

On Wednesday afternoon the town closed up except for the banks and everyone went fishing or swimming or just went home and lazed around.   However all the stores stayed open on Friday and Saturday nights until after 9:00 because Friday and Saturday was  when everyone got paid and the people on the farms came into town for groceries and the movies.

At Christmas time, we had Christmas parties everywhere.  Almost all the little stores and  the banks had them and we went to them all. Then just before Christmas there would be the big Christmas parade.  The whole little town closed for the parade and then opened up for shopping afterwards.  It wasn’t quite like the days of our parents courtships, but things were slower and  life was slower as well.

By that time Joe had transferred to Memphis in the management trainee program.  He drove home on Saturday nights to see me and back to Memphis on Sunday night or early Monday morning. He bacame one of my dad’s best friends,  On the weekends when he was home, he spent the mornings fishing with my Mom and Dad and then the evenings with me, then back on the road to Memphis. 

 We all, (his sisters and his brother and their spouses or boyfriends) sometimes, went to Memphis to eat out.  We liked to eat at Poncho’s Mexican Restuarant( is that correct) or sometimes the Pancake House.

I remember once and incident when we went to West Memphis to eat out.  We were with his sister, Mary and her husband, his sister, Betty and her boyfriend, Jimmy Hale , and Joe and I had gone out to eat at Pancho’s.  While we were eating it began to get foggy.  By the time we left West Memphis, it was so foggy we couldn’t see.  There were miles of road where one of the guys would get out of the car and literally walk in front of the car, so we could see where we were going.

Life was not exciting, but it was good and we enjoyed it and each other. Finally, your grandfather didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.  He was a kidder and he teased me unmercifully.  He got me into cornors sometime that I didn’t know how to wiggle out of.  I will tell you, though, and he won’t like it, he had the rovingest hands of any man I ever knew.  But he never strayed and all of the years we dated, he never dated anyone else.

I didn’t really know how much he loved me until I miscarried with a baby after we married and his mother said to him, “Well I guess, she almost killed herself working for that church she belongs, too.”  His answer to her was, “Mother, she was doing what she was supposed to be doing.”  Then when Little Joe was nine, I had a serious operation.  My body temperature dropped, my blood pressure dropped, and I was in surgery for several hours and had several hundred stitches.  He stayed with me day and night, always within touching distance, never far enough away to let go of me.  Then when we went home, he asked me for the first time, if I wanted him to take the kids to church.  He never waivered after that.  He joined the church two years later of his own accord, taking the lessons without letting me know and presenting me with a pair of  praying hands with his baptism date on it. He defended my faith to his family and they always treated me as a sister because of it.  Looking back, now I can see that he always stood between me and the wall.

These days, he does have a romantic bone in his body, one maybe.  But that bone puts gardenias in my car or in my window or a card on my mirror with a loving verse, feeds the birds and squirrels, puts up with my mouth, puts ups with my slothfulness keeping our books, helps me plant flowers and warms my bed at night.  He gives me pretty much what I want, if we can afford it and I know he loves me  because he wants to be with me forever.  I’ve made him mad,  made him sad, made him glad, spent his money, and he worked like a dog to take care of us all when we owned the store.  He always made it possible for me to be there for the kids when he couldn’t.  I got to see everything and attend every activity while he worked.  Romantic, maybe not, but love me he does for time and all eternity.  He’s my husband, my friend and my lover and  I am his,  and that’s the  story of my romance.

 After all, he made it possible to give me your mother and she gave me you.  He always said he married me for my money, which I didn’t have, and I married him to get a baby and look what happened one fine day.  I had four and now there are 13 of you, with Vanessa, Janie and now Doug, making 14.  All because of this man, your grandfather, the Old Gizzard (Geezer)  Don’t you love him , too?

When I was growing up and we used to visit my grandmother, Martha Caroline Kirk, I would ask her to let me look at her pictures.  She kept them in a shoe box and I would sit for hours looking at those pictures.  I don’t know what fascinated me so about them, but I knew those images were real people who were somehow there with me, but not with me.  They were family to me amd they still are.  They along with what I’ve written below is the beginnings of my search for family.  My memories formed from those visits linger with me still.  There are many memories, but I was asked to give a talk in church several years ago on the Joys of Family History for me.  some of you, who may decide to read this will not always agree with some of the things I’ve said, because it is a difference in religion, but for me it is a work that I have been called to do by the Lord himself, to connect all the dots and cross all the t’s tht connect us to our kindred dead and link us as family for eternity.  I love doing this work.  I have now over 8000 names and more that I need to put in our family history and at another time I will tell you of the Kirk’s, the Haggards, the Lowreys, the Richards and all the families that belong to us and how they got to this country and their stories, but for now bear with me and remember this is my love of family and history and memories and God’s work.  Overlook what you don’t agree with and wait for something more at a later time.  I have all the Kirk’s, all the Lowreys and Haggards history and I will get them on here, but this is an explanation of the Joy that Family History has brought to me.

My daughter once suggested that I have it published, so here goes.  This was my talk.

Good morning, brothers and sisters. Brother Grant asked us to talk about the joys of Family History.  Now I realize that sometimes that subject makes peoples eyes glaze over and sometimes they think Oh, no, not again or I don’t have time for that.  A week or so ago, we discussed in a Teacher Improvement church hobbies.  And that one of them was genealogy.  But it was also mentioned that those who do it have a certain something and that it was extremely important to them.  I hope that by the time we leave you today, you will understand that it is important, but that there is a time and a season for all things and that we all are called to do this work, and I want you to know that it is the Lord’s work.  It is one of the three fold missions of the church.  Joseph Smith said that we couldn’t be saved without our kindred dead.  But, brothers and sisters, I also want you to know it is a lifetime work and that it is a joyful work.  There are as many ways to accomplish this, as there are people in this room.  You can find joy in it and teach your children to love it as well. 

I was born in a little valley outside the little town of Louisville, Mississippi, about two miles from my grandmother’s house, but I don’t remember her until I was five.  We had moved from the farm to Bossier City, La.  For some reason my mother took us to Mississippi for a month in the summer.  On the way, I got a toothache and we had to stop in Louisville and pull my tooth.  By the time I got to my grandmother’s, I was pretty sick little girl.  My tooth had been abscessed and my face was swelling.  She put me to bed in her bed.  It was in the front room of her house next to a window looking out on the porch.  I could see the road from there and the yard . I hadn’t noticed the rockers on the porch, until later.  Many of my childhood memories are tied up with that house that porch, her yard, and the cotton field across the road.   In the yard there were 6 huge oak trees and my grandfathers shop.  It was an old cotton house he pulled up there and put in harnesses, plows, an anvil, and the tools he used to keep the plows sharpened and the harnesses repaired.  On one side of the house was what was once a peach orchard, on the other was her garden.  Down the road was the barn.  It was always fascinating to me to go into the barn because it had a loft with a ladder, stalls for the mules and stalls where each morning and evening my grandfather would call the cows in to be milked.  He would let me watch and even let me try my hand at milking.  In the yard directly in front of the house, my grandmother always had petunias and two huge arborvitaes stood like sentinels to the path leading to the house.  In the back yard was a well.  It was a wondrous sight.  It stood about where I could place my fingers and nose on it and was a funny stack of square wood.  There was a bullet shape bucket with a top on it that my grandmother put the milk after she had separated the cream from the milk and a bucket for the water.  I was always cautioned not to get to close because I might fall in.  The water was so cold and clear and sweet to the taste and I have never tasted milk that tasted the way that did after it came from the well.  I ate the first peach I ever remember eating from the tree in the orchard, but I also remember that there was big fig tree in the back yard that stood there till my grandmother died and that was where I ate my first fig.  At the back door was a funny looking step, but I just thought it was supposed to look that way.  It was a middle piece of a tree or stump and placed just below the door.  On the front porch there were four rockers, one for my grandmother, one for my grandfather and two for their two daughters left at home or for company who came every Sunday afternoon to sit on Ms Carrie’s and Mr. John’s porch.  The first 4^th of July that I remember we made homemade Ice Cream on the porch with a bucket sealed with a lid and placed in an old hand crank ice cream freezer.  We all got to take turns with the crank and that ice cream was delicious to the taste. She always had a caramel cake or a coconut pie sitting on the buffet inside her kitchen.  She made the best cream corn I ever tasted and she served Penny drink dinner and supper.  Penny drink came in a bottle that was dispensed much like KoolAid.  A few drops in a pitcher, some sugar and water and you had an orange or cherry drink seved in a big round goblet.  The goblets were almost to big for a six year old to get her hand aroung, but the drink was delicious to the taste or so it seemed to me.  Across the road in the cotton patch was a worn path from the top of the top of the hill and wound down the to the foot of the hill.  At the foot was my uncle’s house. As I grew up, I watched that house become added upon.  When I first saw it, it consisted of a front room, a dining room and kitchen and one bedroom where all thee boys slept.  My aunt and uncle slept in the front room.  It was covered on the outside with black tarpaper.  I don’t remember when they put the siding and paint on it, but it grew a porch on each end, then a living room and a bedroom and another porch replaced the porch and later a bathroom was added.  I nearly drowned in the pond where they watered their stock.  They had a truck, which had four two by fours placed so that two other two by fours to lie on top.  My uncle had it fixed so that a tarp was placed on the two by fours and would roll up and down .  We could sit on the back and ride down the road with our feet dragging in the sand we could dress up for town or church and ride in the back with the sides rolled down far enough so as not to mess up our hair or clothes.  Other times I rode with my Grandfather in his wagon to the gristmill to see bushels of white corn made into corn meal for the winter.   Another time I went with my aunt to the same man who owned the gristmill and he had put in a strange looking object. She had filled the truck with purple hull and crowder peas and butter beans.  This object I was to find out actually shelled the peas and beans.  He poured them in on one side and the peas came out the other and the hulls fell on the bottom of the cage.  Wonder of wonders, he called it a pea Sheller.

  As my children came along my grandmother would come to visit with my parents and we would all sit outside under the carport and shuck corn or shell peas by hand that my parents had raised or purchased. The children went to the garden with us.  Sometimes they played, but many times they worked along side us. Then one year when all this was taking place we went to shell peas and lo and behold my mother had come up with a wondrous object of her own.  It too was a pea Sheller.  It sits here today before you with this philodendron in it.  It now belongs to my daughter Kathy Goodwin and my grandson, Adam, called it a family antiquity. One side has a handle which turns the two little cylinders that shell the peas into a loaf pan, On the other there is still a little sticker that says it shells purple hulls, Crowder peas and butter beans, a far cry from the one I saw at the gristmill.  It was also the only thing Kathy asked for when my mother sold her home. 

Any way as time went by, I got well and later on my grandmother would bring out a shoebox and let me sit on her couch in the other front room.  That shoe box held pictures of people dressed in strange looking clothes and funny hairdo’s, old cars, buggies, mules, and a few of my dad when he was growing up.     As I grew up other pictures were added to the box of other people.  I fell in love with those pictures.  I always asked her to bring out the box when we were there.

Each year as I went home there were other experiences.  I picked my first boll of cotton, at my great aunt Stellas.  She made Tommi, my brother and me cotton sacks out of pillow cases with a strap sewed on. I saw my first honeysuckle bush, and I pumped the hand pump that my great grandfather, John Wesly Haggard put in the kitchen for my great grandmother, Hester Anne Emm Eaves Haggard..  I visited all of his living daughters,  Johnnie Mae, Rebecca Elizabeth,  Estella,  and Elnora or Nonie as we called her.  she created quite a scandal because she was a divorcee and later married the son of one of her husbands. Their only living son , William Jessie or Uncle Bill and his wife Bessie Loyd still lived on land first

homesteaded,  the land first farmed there before 1850. They lived in an old white Victorian house with blue hydrangea all along the front.  It was there I saw the first pictures of my great grand parents and their parents.   I ate my first apricot and saw them dried for pies.  I slept on my first feather bed and saw my first Billy goat.   I went to my first funeral.  It was for a twelve-year-old boy.  I learned how to churn butter and to dig peanuts; I got my grandmother’s wedding ring.  I was too young and I lost it.  I got her breadboard.  I went inside a smoke house and learned what it was for.   I met other aunts and uncles and cousins, first second, third.  We went to brush arbor meetings and I would be told to say hello to people who were great aunts and uncles and cousin so & on & on. Each year there was more family, all of whom I hold dear to my heart and stored in my memory.  Each year there were  more memories to be stored.

  It was the beginning of a lifetime love affair for me.  I found out that many of my family moved to that little area in 1834 and that many of the descendants of those early ancestors are still there.  I found out who first joined the church.  One was William Addley Haggard.  He had the first case of polio that I had ever heard of.  The year was 1875 and he was a schoolmaster.  Some missionaries came by and asked if they could hold a meeting at the school that night and he agreed.  After the meeting they asked if they could sleep on the floor at the school and he said no, to sleep at his home.  He sat up all night with them talking about the church and at daylight he asked to be baptized.  After he joined, his family was baptized and at the time members of the church began to be persecuted.  The church sent a train to the South to bring members west.  He sold all he had and caught the train and went to Colorado.  They slept in tents in the winter.  In the spring he took his family home until he could earn enough money to take a wagon train going to Texas where he heard the church was strong.  They stopped in Oklahoma and some of his children were born there and grew up and went to California.  It was one of those children who contacted my aunt in 1956 when she was over 80 and asked her about her family.  She told of  our great grandmother, Sarah Pace Haggard bringing 5 boys over the hills on mule back to Mississippi.   I later received copies of those letters and I now have 150 group sheets that she submitted and had the temple work done for the Haggard family.  Through the contact of a cousin I don’t know how many times removed that I located through the Internet, I gained her group sheets and pictures of her parents and her sisters and the store they owned after going to Oklahoma.  It was a miracle to me.

There was also a time when my grandmother showed me her picture when she was 18 years old and my grandfather was 16 years old.  I asked her about her court ship.  She didn’t tell me much about it, but she said they had gone to the church and met the preacher coming out.  He stood on the steps and married them then and there.  As they were leaving they met my great grandfather Kirk and there were two missionaries from the church passing.  He told them if they should ever join a church that they should join the Mormon Church because it was the right one.  It wasn’t until about four years ago that I found out he was a member.  I held his picture in my hand.  He was very distinguished looking in white shirt, dark pants, and a Prince Albert cut a way coat.  He was bald and had a mustache.  I held a small medical book written in his hand and his ordination paper to the Priesthood.  I read a letter informing him of the proxy work done for his dead children in the Logan Temple by a Brother Joseph Packer.  Later I read letters to him written by the missionaries who had baptized him.  He lost his medical practice and the Ku Klux Klan set upon his family.  My great grandmother never joined the church.  She hated it and so did my grandfather.  On one of those trips back home when I was little girl, he sat out under those old Oak trees and told me of the boy Joseph and the scriptures prophesying of him and of the Book of Mormon .  It was in the book of Isaiah.  He was baptized when he was fifty-five and was sealed to my grand mother by proxy after his death.

Brothers and sisters, many of us don’t feel that we have time these days to do all the things we are asked to do.  Many times family history is one of them.  But we really do have the time if we only knew it.  I have here on the podium a little jar given to me by my children and grandchildren several years ago.  It’s called a memory jar.  The Relief Society has just finished manual for Family Home Evening.  Let me suggest a game you can play with your children for Family Home Evening.  Call it Remember When or Remember Where Or Remember Who.  Give them all a little jar with a lid that they can decorate as they please.  Let him or her all write down memories they have about each family member and put a copy in each jar.  Then as days go by and you don’t have time to write in a journal or do a group sheet, write down a memory and put in your memory jar and one in theirs.  You will have been doing family history.  As you take pictures or receive pictures write on the back of them who they are, the date and what was going on.  You will be doing family history.  They each will bring you and the children such joy as you look at the memory strips or look at the pictures.  Let them know who their grandparents are even when they can’t see them often.  Tell them stories of your childhood and of your parents and grandparents.  They will come to learn to love them and feel a connection to their family, even those who are no longer with them. My grandson, Aaron Goodwin, who talked last week, recently chastised his mother, his aunt and me for saying something negative about my mother.  He made the statement that he loved her, no matter what.  That it was a great privilege for him to know her, to love her and to hear her stories and remember them.   That not many people got to know their great grandmothers.  My children did and they have their own memories her and he knows his and he loves her.  She loves him, too.  That is part of family history.  I find such joy in that and in the searching for family that I have done over the years.  I have so many stories that I  could tell you of searching them out and the tears that that I have shed and the things that I learned about them   I could tell you of the miracles that have happened.  Some of them taking twenty years or more, but they happened.  Like a Sunday morning when I received an e-mail from a distant cousin my husband Joe, telling stories and information about his great grandfather who lived to be a 108 years old.  A man I had been searching for over twenty years. Or the time I found out that my great grandfather had a daughter that I had never heard of.  Or of the e-mail I got from a little schoolteacher in Philadelphia who was related to my Eaves and of the two-step brothers Samuel Eaves and William Peter Flake. children of my great great grandparents ,James amd Elizabeth Whitehead Flake Eaves. who grew up as best friends and as brothers.   Or the time I found out that a man named Ron Prince and was related to William Adley, but had all the military history of my great grandfather Kirk’s seven sons who were doctors.  They weren’t related to him. Or again of the time I found out my father was supposed to be Gervais John Rie when he was born, but Gervais was dropped.  Twenty or so years later I found the first Gervais Kyrke in France in 1562 and that his sons , John, Thomas, James, Lewis and David led an armada of 28 British ships to the coast of Canada, captured the French governor, took over the fur trade and David became the governor of Newfoundland. I found out I was related in some way to the Campbell Clan of Scotland.  Then I found out that my Kirk Family had been traced back to Adam through the family of James Monroe, President of the US, whose sister Anne, married my ancestor Jeremiah Kirk, Jr..  Or the letter I received from a co-worker in the family history center which was given to his family and he gave it to me because his name was Thomas and  Jeremiah’s mother was Anne Thomas.  But the letter was about the Cheney family, whose descendant was that same 108 year old great grandfather of my husband.  Her name was Elizabeth, wife of Nathan Cheney.  She was writing from Winter Quarters asking her family for food and clothing for her children.  Her parents had disowned her for joining the church and she was bearing her testimony to them. Small miracles of great joy.

One last little experience I would like to tell you about that I received such joy from, was a youth baptism trip a couple of years ago.  All the youth were asked to do family names.  So I volunteered to help them get their names ready.  One at the time many of them came to the family history center and we prepared their names.  Five of those that I can remember are here today.  One was Hannah McLean, one was Tara Tolbert.  Much of their family work had been done, but they came any way to search and see if there was any ordinance work had been done.  Another was Justin Dyson.  He came with his mother, Marge, and we prepared family names for several of his great grandparents.  Then came Shannon (as she was called then) Gunter and now know as Drew because she liked her middle name.  She came down even though she wasn’t old enough to have the work done for two members of her family.  Her grandfather was a family historian extraordinaire, but here she was and she wasn’t even old enough to do baptisms, wanting to do the work.  Lastly came Daniel Myung with his mother.  This was so special because you see his father is Korean and there had been no work done for his family.  He sat at the computer and typed in names given him by his father and prepared work for his family to be done for the very first time.  I don’t remember the number that was done that night, but I heard testimonies born by Devon Smith and Daniel Morrison of the feeling of such joy they experienced as they went in the waters of baptism to be baptized for their family members. My daughter, Kathy, was there and  spoke of the feelings shared by all there that night as these young people stood as Saviors on Mount Zion for their ancestors night. They were quiet reverent feelings of great joy.

Have you ever known of a party that your friends were having or watched a game being played by your friends and not been invited or asked to play.  You could only watch.  Our ancestors know how that feels as they wait upon us to help find them and having found them to do their work.  They wait to be invited to be part of our eternal families.

I hold here in my hand many names.  These names are on pink and blue and beige cards.  Each is for a different ordinance.  The blue are male ancestors  Pink is for female ancestors.  On them are dates of ordinances performed in their behalf.  The others are for the sealing of husbands and wives.  These are for the binding and sealing powers of the Priesthood of God upon the earth to bind families together forever.  Even when we can’t do any other family history work, we can go to the temple and do this work for someone else’s family.  There is great joy is helping others do that which they can’t do for themselves.    

I hope that you feel some of the joy that I have felt as I have spoken of these things to you.  Brother and Sister Dottery and I have know each other for a long time and know of many stories of helping others find their families and having helped each other.  It is a work of joy and we can each do a little part to find that joy in our lives and help others feel that same way.

I would like to bear you my testimony of the divinity of this work.  I have been called to do it by a servant of God and had hands lain on my head and been set apart for it. But…. even if I hadn’t, I would still do this work.    I have been commanded of God through his prophet, just as you have, to do this work.  There is a time and a season for each of us to do it and in our own way.  It is a way we can do missionary work for those on both sides of the veil.  It is a marvelous work.  It is the work of the Lord.  I testify to you that it has brought me more joy and satisfaction than I can express to you.  We only have to extend ourselves a little bit and they on the other side of the veil will help us find them.  Those family members on this side of the veil will be eternally grateful for the memories you have created to help them with family history.  I leave this with you in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen